


Faint Memories

by TiranasGoldfish



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-03-31
Updated: 2012-03-31
Packaged: 2017-11-02 19:38:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/372644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiranasGoldfish/pseuds/TiranasGoldfish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Semi-AU wherein the Alpha session isn't as fucked up and no time shenanigans. Alpha kids and Beta kids just swapped places, they didn't end up 400 years apart. Some characters remember pieces of their past, and some more than others. T for language. Major Character Death is only for deaths we've already seen in series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Need to Meet

**Author's Note:**

> Copy Pasta-d from my ffnet account
> 
> I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with this, but I wanted to play around with different perspectives and memories from the first session, some more vague than others. Basically this is...I guess an AU, wherein the Alpha session isn't quite as fucked up as it is in canon and some of the characters remember all or part of their previous lives in the Beta session. Apologies for everything.
> 
> Does anybody know how to do colors on AO3? I've seen it, but I don't know how to do it myself. Same goes for different fonts, I guess.

“I'll pay for the flight.”

Your name is Dirk Strider and you have no fucking idea what your Bro is talking about. You stare through your shades and try to discern if he has a blue-tooth headset on that maybe you missed, but no, he lounges in a chair, one leg crossed over the other, news paper held open in front of him, and as far as you can tell, utterly devoid of technology. You add this to the list of worryingly strange things that he's been doing this morning—eating breakfast with you, for one, when normally he's usually not even home; sitting in that fully-buttoned uptight suit and reading the newspaper like he's some kind of gentleman, when in a normal circumstance, he'd have a much more leisurely suit on and a smartphone in his hand; speaking up about something that you have no clue about, when usually you have to work for attention; and now, not a single piece of technology can be seen on his person, when he always makes a point to have at least five computers on his person at all times.

It takes a very long moment of trying to discern his eyes behind his ironic shades before you give in and finally ask what the fuck he means.

“I'll pay for a flight to grab your friend Jake and sit his ass down here for as long as he likes.”

And now you are more than simply worried, but actually damned concerned, because you don't know what prompted this, or why he's not even bothering with irony, or why he's slumping back in his chair like he's defeated and tired and just wants to go home and curl under the covers. Except this is home, even though he's almost never here, and he's not doing that. He's dropping his mask, which he never ever does. You don't know why it scares you, seeing this little bit of emotion, when so little else in the world moves you.

You won't lie, you're more than a little touched by this, but you make sure it doesn't show on your face as you ask what inspired this. Striders don't show emotion, and you don't know what is running through his head that makes him break that rule.

“Don't you want to see him? He's your friend. It's not like it's a fucking strain on my bank here, come on.”

“You never offered anything like this before. Why the fuck would you start now?”

Now he's frustrated. It's unnerving to watch as he tilts his head back to stare blankly up at the ceiling and _holy fuck he just took off his shades to rub his eyes._ You feel like somebody dropped you in an alternate universe, because even though he's not looking at you, and even though you practically never see him off the television set, the sight of him without his sunglasses is jarring. You're glad your own ironic pointy shades hide your eyes as they grow larger against your will. What the fuck.

“Look, he lives alone on that island, right? There was a girl, once,” He's quiet, and you have no idea what kind of emotion that is in his voice, but it makes you incredibly uncomfortable. “There was a girl who lived all alone on and island with nobody but her best friend of a dog. And the only people she ever got to talk to where a few kids she met online through a chat program. She had a great garden, a pet dog, friends, and an entire island to herself. She was cheerful and bright and happy and always seemed to have a great outlook on things, but she was lonely. She was lonely and she didn't want to admit it to anyone, not even herself.”

You know he's not describing Jake, but something about all of this sounds way too familiar, and it only gets worse as he takes a halting breath and continues. “One of her friends, a boy, a brat who was always scared and just pretended to be cool, a fuckup, he liked her. And....she liked him back. And one day she finally managed to leave that damn island, and they saw each other, and that same day he d—something terrible happened to him. And not much later the same thing happened to her.” There's a quick grimace, and suddenly he's poker-faced as usual, shades back on. He stands abruptly, looming over you. “Long story short, they barely saw each other and everything was fucked up afterward that they never got another chance, much less with their other friends. Do you want him to come or not?”

“Yes.” You swallow, still trying to process how fucking weird this whole thing is. You have a terrible nagging feeling that he's talking about himself, which makes no sense either. It would be stupid of you not to pick up on the bit about the boy loving the girl, either, so you think your Bro is probably aware of your feelings toward Jake, too.

“Good. Go tell him, figure out a good time for pickup, see if he knows a way around the dragon that's always flying over his island. Send me a message and I'll set it up.” And with that he's out the door already, leaving you alone to sort things out.

 

**== >Strider: Deal with your emotions.**

 

Which Strider? There are two.

 

**== >Dave: Deal with your emotions.**

 

That is a thing you cannot do. Your feels are off the charts, shooting up like a space shuttle and exploding like the fucking Challenger. You remember another life, you remember growing up twice, and you know that you and almost everyone else on this planet is going to meet an untimely death in just a few years. Your Bro, who you keep having to remind yourself even after thirteen years of doing a shitty job of raising him, is younger than you, and one of the few who will survive. It's hard, and nobody understands. Well, except one person, who you are probably going to regret contacting very soon.

 

turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT]

 

TG: yo lalonde

TG: you at some kind of book session giving out your signature for sweaty stalkers to copy and sign checks in your name with or are you gonna respond

TG: damn it lalonde just fucking talk already

TT: To what do I owe this unusual occasion? My heart beats with anticipation of an explanation.

TG: yeah fuck you too sis

TG: i just

TG: fuck

TG: im bringing him from the island

TT: I assume you are referring to one Jake English. Does this have to do with Dirk or with Jade? No, I'll answer that one for you, it's both. Are you feeling guilty about something?

TG: im fucking rich and I gotta waste all this money on something

TT: I will take into consideration that you are avoiding the question and take that as a yes. Dearest brother, if you're going to jump around the question, you need to do better than pretending it was never asked.

TG: fuck we arent even related in this session lalonde

TG: why the fuck do you even call me that

TT: So speaks the one who just called me 'sis.' We still have the same essential genetic makeup that we did in the previous session and that ectobiological makeup was the entire reason we used 'ironic' familial terms with each other. Quit stalling and get to the point. As much as I'd love to play, I am, as you so previously assumed, giving out autographs. Or rather, I was before you pestered me and they are sorely missing my charming presence in the atrium. I only have a few minutes.  
TG: look i did a shitty job of raising him and im not going to do any better before everything goes to hell

TT: So to make up for it you want to give him the chance you never had. You want to let him spend more time with his friends, specifically the boy he has a crush on. And you feel you owe it to Jade to give her grandson a chance to get off of his island and meet his friends and interact with real people, face to face.

TG: jade didnt deserve to be alone

TG: he probably doesnt either

TG: why the fuck did she have to be born so much earlier this time

TG: why are she and john dead already

TG: none of us should have to die so soon either

TT: If it makes you feel any better, unlike us, it is unlikely that either of them remembered much, if any, of their previous lives.

TT: As much as I'd like to continue this conversation while you are so uncharacteristically open and straightforward about your thoughts, I suggest that you stop worrying about them and head to your meeting. I thought it had been a while since you contacted me, so my schedule is light today. We can speak more at length sometime after noon. If you like we can even meet for lunch and talk about the end of the world over tea and crumpets.

TT: Goodbye for now.

 

tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG]

 

TG: wait no

TG: goddammit

 

turntechGodhead [TG]ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT]

 

You are Dave Strider, and the only person in the entire world who understands you is too busy to talk to you right now.

But you will never admit to feeling lonely.

 

 

**== >Dirk: Deal with your emotions.**

 

That is a thing you can do. Your feels mostly consist of confusion. You might be worried, too, but you know that Bro can handle himself, even if he was acting...strangely today. However, there is no understanding his motives without asking him, and you doubt he would answer you truthfully even if he did. You resist the temptation to pull up a chat window with Roxy and talk to her about it and instead focus on what you should do next.

 

**== >Dirk: Go pester Jake.**

 

You head to your room and boot up your laptop, mostly because you aren't really sure you want your auto-responder in on this conversation right now. Pesterchum is already up, and Jake is logged on. Bingo.

 

timeausTestified [TT] began pestering golgothasTerror [GT]

 

TT: Yo, English.

GT: Strider! What are you up to chum?

TT: My Bro just offered to fly you from your island all the way to my flat.

TT: Hello?  
TT: Jake, is something wrong?

GT: Oh no i was just rather taken by surprise. I was not aware mr strider was so generous or that you had spoken to him about this.

TT: That's just it. I never talked to him about bringing you over. He doesn't give handouts and he rarely even speaks to me now that I can fend for myself. I don't know why he's doing this.

GT: Well that is an anomaly.

GT: *fiddles with collar in excitement*

GT: When can i expect to be picked up?

TT: Probably in the near future. He wanted to know if the dragon would be a problem, and how to avoid her. Now that I think of it, I should warn him about the tinkerbulls as well.

GT: Oh she isnt usually hostile. She appears to only dislike things that get to close to her or attack her. She usually only gets into fights with the seagoats and doesnt even pay any heed to the tinkerbulls.

TT: Good to know. Pack up everything you need for at least a week, then, because he didn't put any kind of time limit on your stay. Actually, he seemed to want you to stay with me for a while. You need to get back to the island before the game starts, but other than that you can probably stay here as long as you like.

GT: I do hope i wont be overstepping the bounds of hospitality. *dabs nervously at forehead*

TT: Fuck no. In case you haven't noticed, Bro is a billionare. I just wish I knew what inspired him to do this.

TT: Well, either way, I need to give him the go-ahead for picking you up.

TT: I'll talk to you later, bro.

GT: Looking forward to it old chap! I'll go pack up now.

 

timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering golgothasTerror [GT]

 

 

timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG]

 

TT: The dragon won't be a problem as long as the plane doesn't get too close. She isn't hostile.

TT: You should tell the pilot to watch out for these little flying bulls though, they're friendly and are probably going to try greeting the plane. They'd get turned into ground beef going through any kind of engine or propeller. It wouldn't do the plane any good either.

TT: He's already getting his stuff together, so you can send for him whenever you want.

TT: …

TT: I'll need another bed for my room. Or at least a couch. Something easy to captchalogue.

TT: …

TT: Thanks.

 

timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG]


	2. Getting There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake meets Dave and Dirk.

This dream is always the same. There are a few like it, where sometimes they're fuzzier and sometimes they're sharper, sometimes they're shorter and sometimes they're longer, but the details are always the same, like a memory. In this one, you're lying on your back and you can't breathe very well because something lodged in your lungs makes it difficult. Pain that is slowly turning to numbness emanates from the middle of your chest. If you dredge up the energy to look you can see a sword that you somehow recognize as your own sticking up from the spot, slick with the same sticky blood that pools around you.

A pained gasp draws your attention to your side. It's like moving through molasses, now, but you let your head fall so you can look to the sound. Someone faintly familiar, orange, glowing, is slowly dragging themselves towards you, but your vision is starting to blur and you can't tell who they are. When they're almost to you, you realize the strangled noises sound something like crying from a person who doesn't know how, and you see the figure has wings. Or rather, one wing, because the where there should be a second there is instead a bloodied stump. It tugs on your hand with one of its own, crying something out, and you realize you can only barely hear anything around you. The hand not grasping your own to its chest extends, shaking, and lies gently on head as he lies down beside you. Now that his face is so close to your own, you recognize it as your Bro, it's Dave, but he's so much younger and more vulnerable than you could ever imagine him and your heart almost feels like it's going to burst.

You want to hold him to your chest and comfort him, because you're the big brother and he needs you, but you can't move. You try to whisper something, but it mostly comes out as a gurgle. Some of his words start to finally make their way to you - “No,” and “don't die!” and “you always win” - but soon you can't even hear them anymore. It's difficult, but you make your hand, the one he's almost crying on, tug its way up to his hair and stroke it. This time you think you manage to finally say “it's okay,” though you can't hear yourself if you do. You crack a smile for him and the world starts to bleed away around you until there's nothing left but black.

You wake up sweating. There are other dreams like this one, almost like memories in their repetition, but this one is always one of the strongest. It's almost surreal, with you as the older brother, your Bro as some kind of orange angel, your senses melting away as you fade. You're dying, but there's always some sense of pride in it, as if you just accomplished something great in the process.

What do you die for that is worth so much to you?

You never know.

You stare blankly at the dark ceiling, gears in your brains turning to such thoughts for who knows how long before you realize part of your computer is blinking with some kind of update. You drag yourself out of bed to sit in front of the machine. It looks like Jake pestered you a few hours ago.

 

golgothasTerror [GT] started pestering timeausTestified [TT]

GT: I just wanted to let you know the plane arrived!  
GT: I was worried the sea goat had somehow managed to get itself on land when i first heard the noise the thing made.  
GT: Are you there strider?  
GT: Oh dear it appears you arent. You forgot to sign off again bro!  
GT: That aside i admit my knickers are all in a twist and i can hardly contain my excitement. I think i will take a good nap to conserve my energy for when i actually see you. It would not do for me to arrive only to fall over on your doorstep!  
GT: See you soon!

golgothasTerror [GT] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

 

It will still be a few hours at best before he was anywhere near Houston. Sleeping isn't an option for the time being after a dream like that. What will you do?

 

**== >Dirk: Clean up your flat.**

Oh, right. Mostly your room is what needs cleaning, actually. The rest of the flat is fairly devoid of clutter. You think you want to change out your posters before Jake arrives, or at least take down a few of your SBaHJ ones. The pile of puppets at the end of your bed gets shoved inside a trunk, along with the removed posters. Your worktable gets shoved out into something like a living room and various things in your room are shoved around to make space for another bed.

Right as you finish you hear a loud thunk on your roof. You make the journey up the stairs to see a futon casually sitting in the middle of the roof, receipt attached with a string and a helicopter flying away. Impeccable timing, as always. It's a mystery as to how your bro does it, but you mark it up to rule of cool and hope one day to match it.

Moving the futon downstairs proves to be difficult until you give up trying not to break your neck falling and empty your modus in the middle of the living room, leaving you free to simply captchalogue the futon, eject it where you want it in your room, and re-captchalogue what was in your modus again. You will now be doing small boring tasks such as sweeping and making beds for a while. This is boring. Perhaps you should find something else to do.

 

**== > Dave: Greet Jake.**

The first look you get at the boy shocks you. You had thought, since physically John was essentially a male version of Jade, that Jake would look mostly like John. It isn't until you see the boy, stepping out of the first jet and stretching his legs before moving off toward the second as directed, that you understand that just how different Jade is from John and how much more this boy looks like her. It isn't just physical, either, though it is definitely there too. There is a certain bounce to his movements and excitement to his words that reminds you of her.

He sees you as you walk over to him and practically snaps to attention in front of you he's so tense. You stop in front of him and pause a long moment before you trust yourself to speak.

“Yo, kid.”

“Mr. Strider...?”

“The one and only.”

He beams up at you and you're taken off guard for just a moment. “I'm such a fan of your movies, sir! I jolly well almost can't wait for the next one to come out!”

“Good to know. You'll get to Houston in a few hours and Bro will be waiting for you there.” A phone appears in your hand. “Your chumhandle is golgothasTerror, right?” The question is mostly to stop your brother from asking why you have his friend's handle. You've had the name on your list for almost a year already.

“Y-yes?”

You silently hold out your hand and wait for him to fumble a PDA of sorts out of one of his pockets and hand it to you. It only takes a moment for you to add yourself to his list, which you note to be a painfully short one, before you give it back to him.

He stares at you in confusion for a moment before speaking. “What inspired that, Mr. Strider?”

“Nothing much. Don't tell him about this. If anything happens to either one of you, shoot me a message. Let it be known that if he cannot defend his sorry behind from something you do, after I beat his ass within an inch of his life, I'll do the same to you.” You take in the various emotions flitting across his face—fear, bewilderment, and worry. They'll have to do for now. You resist the urge to make him smile just because you want to see Jade's smile and settle for ruffling his hair instead of cracking some kind of joke. It was bad enough that you let down your guard the other day while the only person to watch was your Bro. It was stupid of you, stupid to let him see you like that, stupid to take off your shades. You can barely imagine how bad it would be if you let some kind of expression slip here. If he smiled because of something you said, so would you, and you can't have that happening and ruining your public image. Or your personal one.

He still seems unsure of what to do, but he gives you a shaky smile before you jerk your head in the direction of the plane he's to take. A hand is thrust toward you and you reluctantly shake it, feigning indifference to the enthusiastic reply. Then he's gone, almost running to his ride in what you think is partly an attempt to escape you. A sigh almost escapes your lips before you reign yourself in and smooth your face into the perfect mask you usually wear.

A short limo ride and a flight of stairs later, you're lying on a bed in one of your many houses, trying to forget a life you never lived.

 

**== >Dirk: Stop showering and prepare to confess to Jake.**

No! You do not want to confess to Jake. He has already expressed his thoughts in terms of 'if you were a girl, strider, i dare say we would be perfect for each other!' You will only get rejected, which you are not ready for yet. Perhaps in the future you will consider this again, but right now this is one of the furthest things from your mind.

You do, however, complete your ablutions and prepare to meet Jake.

 

**== >Dirk: Check Pesterchum.**

It appears you have messages from your three best friends You read them in chronological order. The first is dated to be a few hours ago.

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

TG: heeeeeyy dirk  
TG: diiick  
TG: *dirk but that wroks too  
TG: *works  
TG: janey is worried about jake but hes not responding idk why  
TG: are you even there  
TG: or is AR at least on???  
TG: nope damn i'll tell her you dont know eitherr

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

The next one is dated only a few minutes later.

gutsyGumshoe [GG] began bothering timaeusTestified [TT]

GG: Ro-Lal has been most unhelpful recently!  
GG: Would you happen to know why Jake isn't responding to any of our messages?  
GG: Hello?  
GG: I am beginning to suspect that you aren't even there!  
GG: I'll check back later. Please send me a message if you know what's happened to him.

gutsyGumshoe [GG] ceased bothering timaeusTestified [TT]

Marked as a few hours later and not very long ago at all are a few lines from Jake.

golgothasTerror [GT] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

GT: Oh dear.  
GT: I forgot all about telling the ladies of our adventure!  
GT: What kind of gentleman am i to worry a maiden?  
GT: They pestered and bothered me quite thoroughly but everything should quite be cleared up now.  
GT: I am told you can disregard any messages they sent you regarding my terribly unresponsive nature!  
GT: See you in a jiffy.

golgothasTerror [GT] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

Just as you finish reading Jake's, one more box pops up.

turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

TG: bro  
TG: roof  
TG: now

turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

You grab a shitty sword and rush up the stairs. What you see when you kick open the door, however, is not your brother armed and ready to strife as expected. Instead, a helicopter, one you dimly recognize as looking the same as the one that dropped off the futon earlier, is touching down. A boy – Jake, it must be Jake – hops out and waves to you as the heli takes off again. He shouts something that is downed out by the noise behind him. You shake your head at his antics and let your strife sylladex take care of your sword.

He bounds up to you and nearly tackles you to the ground in a great hug. Suddenly you are very grateful for the distance between you and the edge of the building as you stumble backwards two steps, three, and catch yourself. Maneuvering your arms around to hug him back is kind of awkward, but you admit to having very little experience in hugging anyways. The two of you make it work somehow before he pulls back, holding you by the shoulders at arms length.

“I say, Strider my friend, it is good to finally see you! But perhaps we should take this inside?” The back of his hand is suddenly pressed to your forehead. You are halfway to your strife sylladex by the time you tell your body he means no harm. “The heat seems to be getting to you!”

What is he talking about? It's Houston, and summer. This is a relatively cool day for—oh. You're blushing, and he's taken it as a reaction to the weather. Well, you'll take what blessings you can get. You crack a small smile at him, breaking the Striders-don't-show-emotion rule for just a second.

“English, if I'd known you were going to overreact to a little bit of sun, I'd have decorated the rooftop with parasols. Surely there's no need to treat me like a southern belle just so you can cool yourself down.” You flex your fingers. “Unless you would prefer to heat things up instead?”

It is a challenge and he knows it. A near manic grin spreads across his face and he leaps at you. The two of you fall to the ground in an unceremonious heap and start to wrestle for dominance, turning this way and that. You manage to twist one of his arms behind his back, only to be clipped in the jaw with an elbow. He pins one of your hands just in time for the other to land a solid blow to his eye. One of your knees finds its way to his chest and presses down, making it harder for him to breathe. The match is yours; in a few moments you've pinned both his arms.

Something feels odd about your mouth. After a moment you realize that the jaw cracking grin plastered across the face of the boy trapped beneath you is easily matched by your own. You hadn't realized how much you looked forward to having someone to fight with. So much for keeping the Strider mask on. A trickle of sweat working its way down your chest lets you know that the shower was pretty much useless. You remove yourself from Jake and dust yourself off as you stand, inwardly grimacing at the tar and dirt that sticks to your sweat-soaked body and clothes.

You offer a hand to Jake, still splayed out on the ground. He takes it and doesn't let go even after you've pulled him up, electing instead to shake it.

“I don't believe we have properly introduced ourselves, and yet we've already had a good bout of tussling. I'm Jake English, gentleman adventurer, pleased to finally make your personal acquaintance.” His accent does funny things to your stomach and suddenly you are tempted to link your fingers more intimately with the warm calloused ones firmly gripping your palm.

“Dirk Strider, at your service. Considering we've known each other for years online, is this really necessary?”

“We can't be living together for a month or more if we haven't even properly introduced ourselves, bro!”

“You're staying at least a month?” The breath is almost knocked out of you as you realize what he said. He grins again, buckteeth showing.

“Or maybe longer.” An arm is swung around your neck. Reciprocating comes naturally. “Strider, we have all the time in the world. Piffle to romping about my island for now. We can have adventures here, too!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would still totally love if somebody taught me what to do to make chat logs in color and different fonts. Pardon my formatting, I'm still getting used to AO3


End file.
